Pain
by OrangeZest100
Summary: Idea came from Shawntel's "Impossible".  Something horrible happened to Draco Malfoy.


Pain

They always asked him. Always the same question: why? They always got the same response: I loved him. It was also a lie. He never admitted it, not out loud and certainly not in public, but it was always. Every year, on the day it ended, he went to the Leaky Cauldron.

The routine was always the same. He would go up to the counter and bye a bottle of Firewhisky and request a glass. Then, he would go sit in a corner booth, to take shot after shot. He never got any farther than sixteen shots. The locals knew the routine. They didn't bother him. After a few years of seeing the wasted Firewhisky stolen, the bartender took pity on him. He made the boy (for that's all he really was) pay for seventeen shots, and when he left, the bartender would sell the rest.

The inhabitants would talk about him. Always out of earshot, and almost always behind cupped hands. He ignored them. 14 shots in and he starts to look drunk, eyes glazed with a vacant expression. At the 15th shot he's crying, great heaping tears rolling down his face. He was silent, always silent when he cried like this, for only in an alcohol induced stupor could he admit it to himself. He loves him. With his 16th shot he leaves, apparating to HIS neighborhood. Every year he got closer to HIS house. He never entered the building, never even gave any indication that he came near it. He always left, always.

On the 16th year, he got closer than he ever had. He stood on HIS doorstep, the silent tears running down his face. 16 years and he had never talked to HIM or seen HIS face. Finally, he sighed and apparated home. Home, if an empty building filled with cobwebs, dust, and bad memories could be called such a thing. He had to get to bed. He had promised a friend he would come to her engagement party, and the hangover was always bad.

He showed up, well dressed (as usual) and bearing a small gift. It was a small teapot. He never used it anymore. He figured someone could use it. After all, she liked tea. "Thank you for coming Draco," she said in her dreamy voice. Luna was one of the few people who called him by his first name.

"Hi. Where's this fiancée of yours?"

"Right here." Neville had come up from behind. 16 years ago, Draco would have noticed, but now, he didn't. Neville and Luna had joined hands and were staring at each other, blissfully unaware of their surroundings, and it was getting uncomfortable.

"I brought a present." They thanked him and wished him fun at the party. He left the couple and chatted with old friends, old schoolmates. He told them he was doing well, but they all knew the truth. Eventually, he reached a couple that were his best friends, and his worst enemies. "Hello Ron, Hermione."

"Malfoy," they said in unison, bringing a smile to each others faces.

"Awaiting another baby I see."

"Yes," grinned Hermione, rubbing her swollen stomach. The group talked, mostly about trivial subjects. They talked about the other child, Avine. All was well until he asked one question. He never knew what made him ask it.

"How's Ginny?" Hermione, being the smart woman she is, knew he was asking about HIM immediately. Ron, however, was not as fast.

"Great. She just joined the Chudley Cannons as a chaser and is enjoying being single." His body froze. His vision narrowed until everything was seen at the end of a long tunnel. His breath came in small, short gasps. His brain couldn't process what Ronald had said. _If she was single, then _he _wasn't with her. Why wasn't he with her?_

To Ron's credit, he quickly realized what he had done, unfortunately, not quick enough to stop Hermione from hitting him. As Ron rubbed his arm, Hermione turned to look at Draco, only, he wasn't there.

He raced through the crowd, searching for HIM. No matter what the cost was, he had to see HIM again. Then, suddenly, he found him. HE was at the edge of the crowd, talking to dean and Seamus. He was lightly leaning against a pillar, its beige color putting him in profile. He wore a black polo, the fabric clinging to his chest, showing every muscle and extenuating every movement. His black slacks seemed loose, making his legs look like sticks. His skin was tanned and his hair dark and ruffled. His eyes shined a bright green. Then he laughed, the flash of his white teeth contrasting with his skin. The made his eyes sparkle and dance. The laugh itself sounded like water in a gurgling brook. Draco was transfixed.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Ron had gotten Neville and Luna to help search for Malfoy. This created immense chaos until Hermione spotted him. She called his name and Draco turned.

Harry Potter was talking about work. Dean and Seamus worked in administration and were thirsty for some stories from the famous Auror. When Dean made a joke, Harry laughed, enjoying the few hours he had where he didn't have to worry about dark wizards. He heard Hermione call out Draco's name. Harry Potter looked in time to see Draco Malfoy turn back toward him.

_He's seen me._ Draco's mind could create no other thought as he stood at the center of attention. His brain could not function correctly. He kept getting flashes of his past. _His father beating him in the living room. Dueling Harry second year. The start of their relationship, and its horrible end._ His mind betrayed him even more when Harry slowly started to approach him.

Harry had forgotten how blonde Draco's hair was. He had forgotten the sullen grayness of the boy's eyes. Harry had finally solved his sexual problem; he was now (and forever) a homosexual. At this moment, he was strongly attracted to the Malfoy boy. Plus, Harry didn't believe he had ever really stopped loving him in the first place. Harry kept going until he was toe-to-toe with Malfoy. He did nothing; he was afraid he would break him again.

Draco's hear was whole again. Seeing Potter again had restored him. As Harry stopped in front of him, Draco made a decision. Draco Malfoy leaned forward and locked lips with Harry Potter.


End file.
